To the End of Their Days
by zissa
Summary: A collection of loosely connected Kiko one-shots beginning post-revolution and centered around life, love, and politics on Luna.
1. The Trouble with Androids

There were more androids on Earth than Kinney had expected and to be entirely honest, they were making him uneasy. Not for the same reason that the rest of Princess Selene's newly formed royal guard was uneasy. After spending the past month around that shell friend of the princess' and Iko, he was used to the unnerving lack of bioelectricity and the complete uselessness of one's glamour. This was something else…an inexplicable raising of his hackles that he just couldn't put his finger on.

They were just so…polite. So quiet. So unlike everything he knew—or thought he knew—about androids. Not that he was an expert, what with only having met exactly one prior to this trip, but still. It was a shock.

After two weeks staying in the Eastern Commonwealth while Queen Selene received a crash course in…well…everything royal, Kinney had much more time than he would've liked to observe them. They did nearly every menial task here. The cooking, except for the important dinners when the hired chefs were brought in. The gardening, to keep the elegant gardens well-trimmed. The cleaning and palace-keeping, which meant that every time he returned to his quarters after breakfast, there was likely an android of some description—short and squat and inhuman, or tall and detailed and unbelievably real…he was coming to realize that there were innumerable types—lurking helpfully around. And they did every bit of it with a perfectly courteous, perfectly benevolent, perfectly _irritating_ lack of personality. No sass. No sarcasm. No _genuine_ smiles. Nothing like the one android he knew.

He passed a tall serving android, likely returning from hauling the Lunar party's luggage out to the ship, on his way down the wide staircase leading outside to the landing pad and barely managed to suppress a scowl. It nodded demurely, that serenely polite smile and empty eyes rendering its face quite pleasant and… _bland_. Kinney started walking faster, putting as much distance between himself and the palace—with its legions of androids—as possible as he all but jogged to the waiting ship.

He rounded the side of the ship, on route to check in with the royal mechanics who were supposed to be prepping the ship for the journey back to Luna, and almost barreled into a tangle of limbs leaning against the bulkhead that he dimly recognized as the queen and emperor respectively. Said queen was no longer in the graceful tea-length gown she'd been in for their official departure. Now that the cameras were gone, so was the dress, traded for grease-stained coveralls, and the royal mechanics were nowhere in sight, evidently ousted in favor of New Beijing's former _best_ mechanic.

Kai, his arms still wrapped tight around Cinder, opened his eyes at the scrape of Kinney's boot on the concrete, but didn't pull away from the kiss. Kinney raised his hands in apology and turned on his heel to retreat. Whoops. He couldn't even count how many times that had happened over the past two weeks. Perhaps if the young royals would actually pick _sensible_ places to canoodle, rather than the middle of the main corridor or half tucked into the innards of a ready-to-depart ship, it wouldn't be such a problem.

"Have you seen Cinder? She left her dress…" Iko appeared in the ship's hatch as Kinney mounted the moveable staircase, her lips twisting in a concerned frown as she held the dress in question out at arm's length. "Such a nice dress, too."

"Her Majesty's busy." The palace androids would never dare to call a royal by a nickname.

Iko's eyes sharpened as they flicked up from appreciating the silver silk of the dress. "Busy? Doing what, exactly?"

"Last minute tutoring session with the Emperor." Kinney replied, a wolfish smirk stealing across his face and he waggled his brows. Iko blinked. Cocked her head, her curtain of blue braids cascading over one shoulder.

"Tutoring? But she left her notes on the—"Her eyes widened with recognition, mouth rounding to a delighted o. "Oh! _Tutoring_!"

She glanced back down at the dress and let out a disappointed hum. "Shame she didn't keep the dress on…Good-bye kisses are much more _romantic_ in a pretty dress."

"That the voice of experience?" That…came out snippier than he meant for it to. What was it to him if it was? Iko frowned at him, the familiar thoughtful wrinkle settling between her eyes, and he glanced away, retreating into his formal, professional demeanor.

"Are we ready for take-off?"

"Almost. Just waiting on the okay from the mechanics." Iko replied absently, still scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes. Almost…concerned. And that, honestly, just made it worse. The palace androids were never _concerned_. Oh, they spouted their programmed responses well enough at the sound of a yelp from a stubbed toe or a mirror-startled Lunar, but it was cold concern from a cold machine. Emotionless. Empty. The opposite of Iko, despite their shared components.

Kinney snorted, shooting a glance back down at the starboard bulkhead and the two sets of feet still visible there. "That might take a while."

There was a clatter at the edge of the landing pad and both of them looked up to see another contingent of palace androids marching toward the ship's hold, loaded down with garment bags and suitcases, but still offering that irksome, empty smile of greeting. Kinney scowled and Iko abruptly fisted her hands and propped them on her slender waist.

"Is _that_ what your problem is? You've been cranky the whole visit!" Her eyes flashed, brimming with anger and disgust and…hurt? "Look, I know you aren't used to us. I get that it's hard to adapt after not being around androids, but you've got no right to ruin the visit for Cinder and—"

"It's not the androids." He murmured, pushing away from the railing he'd leaned against and darting down the steps. Surely he could find something to busy himself with until take-off that didn't involve being near _her_ right now. Because it wasn't the androids. He knew that. It was looking at their hollow expressions and comparing them to Iko's radiant smile. It was listening to their robotic responses and holding them against Iko's biting wit. It was the realization that Iko was unlike any android ever made, and that the average android couldn't do what Iko did. That the average android...couldn't make a man fall in love with a machine.


	2. Your Eyes are Nice

Her eyes were irritatingly distracting. Flashing between an irritated shade of bright tangerine and an exasperated orange as she paced through the east wing's conference room. Ever since Iko's repairs had been completed and the new, emotion-pigmented eyes installed, Kinney had known he was in trouble. He was finding it very difficult to focus on Iko's rant when he kept getting lost in the progression of colors in her eyes.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we're both here for Cinder—"

"Queen Selene." It was nitpicky, a deliberate egging on of an already agitated android. Kinney was finding that he was very good at that. Iko stopped, propping her hands on her hips as she turned to glare. The orange flared to a warning candy apple red.

"Cinder is our main priority. Our _common_ priority. And if we're going to present a united front for the new Lunar cabinet and the rest of Luna in general, we can't have her chief counselor and her personal guard _glaring_ at each other during every public appearance!" It was a valid concern. While the revolution was over, the reconstruction was just beginning. Selene had won the crown, but _keeping_ it while under the scrutiny of a badly oppressed planet and fighting the bitter ire of a whole class of jilted nobles was going to be a much more political matter than getting it had been.

"You do realize you're glaring at me right now, right?"

" _Arrgh!_ " The eyes were smoldering crimson now. Iko threw her hands up in exasperation and resumed pacing the length of the empty conference room, towering stiletto heels clacking a tense rhythm as she moved. "You are an utterly impossible man, you know that?"

"And you're an equally impossible machine."

She huffed a faint sigh, some of the anger draining away in favor of resignation. Her shoulders slumped and the bright, fiery crimson was suddenly tinged with a mottled purple at the edges. Like a painful bruise. A hurt that wouldn't be ignored, no matter how much she wanted to. "And that's all it really comes down to for you, isn't it?" Her voice had gone low, a little pained. "Because I'm a machine, it's okay to hate me."

Kinney shifted uneasily on his feet at that, suddenly feeling too warm in the heavy fabric of his uniform, choked by the high, formal collar. And maybe by the guilt. That...that was an unexpected result. Sure, she unnerved him. Confused him a little. Amused him a lot. But hate was a strong word for a strong feeling, and definitely not for the particular feeling he harbored for Iko.

Iko swallowed, pursed her lips, and Kinney thought that, if she could have, she would sniffled. He felt the sudden urge to say something, _anything,_ to fix it, to take back the completely idiotic words that had just tumbled out of his mouth. She'd never responded to his barbs like that before. It certainly wasn't his intention. There was a moment of awkward silence as he pondered his options, broken only by the low hum of Queen Selene's voice in the next room over, where she was comming Emperor Kaito.

"I...um...I haven't seen your eyes turn that color before." That was innocuous enough, right? A quick subject change targeted at positive feature was usually enough to change the direction of an otherwise downward-spiraling conversation. He actually kind of hated that color now. This was the only time he'd seen it and the only time he'd seen the corresponding emotion from her; he wasn't fond of either.

"My eyes—? This is serious conversation, Kinney!" Okay. Apparently, that was a bad strategy with Iko. He sighed, shoving away from the intricately carved conference table he'd been leaning on and starting his own pacing circuit on the opposite side of it from Iko. She stared at him, eyes still the same hurt shade of dirty eggplant, but narrowed now in either annoyance or suspicion or both.

"I don't hate you." He finally said, quietly, nonchalantly, as if announcing that the weather was nice today. He wasn't sure— or at least couldn't admit—what he did feel. Certainly not to her.

"Well, you could have fooled me." Iko snapped and resumed her pacing, not in step with his, mind you, but still close enough to keep her gaze firmly on his face. Kinney didn't reply, instead focusing on the steady thump of his boots.

What could he say? He hadn't given her any reason to think otherwise between the sour looks and snide remarks. Of course, she usually gave as good as she got, but still. He'd started it. But...he'd never intended to make her cry. Or not cry, given that she couldn't, but it was close enough. Kinney paused, trying to formulate an appropriate response. Something apologetic, but not too...revealing. An olive branch, but definitely not a valentine.

"True." He failed.

Words were harder when they were sincere rather than snide. Iko just frowned again and stomped around to his side of the table, straight up to his face. Or more accurately, to the top of his head, since she was an inch taller than him in those particular heels. Her mouth opened, as if to spit fire, but Kinney interrupted.

"Your eyes are nice." That was better than 'true,' at least.

"What is it with you and the eyes?!" This time when she threw her hands up in pure exasperation, she nearly smacked him. Kinney ducked and Iko looked totally unrepentant as she leaned in close, stabbing a finger at the tip of his nose and growling. "Whatever it is that's wrong with you, get over it. For Cinder. For Luna, maybe, since that's so important to you. But do it sooner rather than later."

Silence reigned for a long moment as they stared, barely a finger's width of space between their noses. One of Iko's braids slid off her shoulder to thump into Kinney's chest, highlighting the rise and fall of his chest…and the absolute lack of respiration from Iko. He reached absently down and caught it by the tip, flicking it back into the blue cascade flowing over her shoulder and marveling at how something synthetic could be that soft.

"As you say, Madame Counselor." He murmured softly.

"Well…" She pulled away abruptly, surprised by the speed of his acquiescence. She straightened, brushed a few wrinkles from the full, swingy skirt of her dress, and gave a tight, authoritative nod. "Well, good. I'm…glad we had this talk. I think."

"What are you two _doing_ in here?" They both jumped at the voice, whirling to see Queen Selene standing in the doorway with her portscreen tucked under her arm and a deeply confused look on her face. Kinney stiffened and Iko turned a gasp into a hasty cough.

"Nothing." The answer came in quick, perfect unison as both parties fled the premises, Iko to "check on the seamstresses" and Kinney to "patrol." Selene's brow furrowed, eyes narrowing with suspicion as she trailed after Iko. _Nothing_ , indeed…


	3. Hiding

Once upon a time, Cinder hadn't quite understood why Kai had made such a fuss over royal duties. Sure, she'd known that the responsibilities were a heavy load to bear. That there were a lot of them. And that despite the supposedly stable nature of monarchies, politics played a much greater role than they were supposed to.

Knowing it was vastly different than _living_ it.

Which was why she was currently hiding from her newly-formed court in one of the palace's hundreds of empty conference rooms. She'd started walking the minute the latest in a long line of excruciating council sessions was over, with no clear path in mind, just…away. Away from bitter thaumaturges whose power, whose position, whose entire way of life had stripped away in a single brief battle. Away from sulking noble families whose life of ease and favor was evaporating before their eyes with the arrival of the new queen. Away from jaded common folk who demanded change far faster than she could give it. Away from tedious video calls with still cautious Earthen leaders. Even away from her Counselor and her personal guard, because if Iko and Kinney didn't stop bickering, Cinder was going to be tempted to smack them both.

It was all just so much _bigger_ than she'd expected.

Before, her life had been focused on one simple goal: stop Levana. That had led to another easily stated goal that would come as a product of the first: become queen. And from there, everything had fallen into a series of sequential events as easy to aim for—if a bit harder to achieve—as assembling a malfunctioning android. Stop Levana, stop the wedding, kidnap Kai, start the revolution, become queen…all broad ambitions with delicate execution.

But now she _was_ queen.

She was queen, and the instant that crown settled on her head, every simple equation in her life had splintered into a thousand pieces. A thousand details to be remembered and balanced and juggled if she was to make the millions people now depending on her happy. Their safety, their well-being, their very lives all hinged on her now, and somehow that was a million times scarier than all the heart-pounding events that had led up to it. Her life was infinitely more stable than a week ago, when she had been a fugitive and a revolutionary…and was now infinitely more complicated.

Cinder pulled her port from the pocket of the dress Iko had bullied her into for that morning's meeting and scrolled to her contacts, tapping the most frequently called. That had been one caveat for allowing Iko and the local seamstresses to outfit her with a new wardrobe: if there were going to be dresses, there must also be pockets. No exceptions.

"You know, you've only been back on Luna for less than a week." Kai's face filled the port's screen, brown eyes warm and smiling despite the teasing. Cinder rolled her eyes and moved to slouch into the uncomfortable, straight-backed chair at the head of the conference table. "Couldn't get along without my beautiful face?"

"Have you been taking lessons from Thorne?" Cinder wrinkled her nose at the words, despite the smile tugging at her lips. Even though the group had gone their separate ways, they had all been making frequent calls and sending a ridiculous amount of comms back and forth. Thorne, in particular, since he often felt the need to regale his friends with his latest exploits…though that more often than not devolved into talking about Cress.

"Actually, he dared me to use that line with a straight face." Kai's brow furrowed as his gaze scraped over the bits and pieces of the background that he could see in the narrow view Cinder's port offered. "Why are you in a conference room by yourself?"

"Hiding again. Too many meetings in row, and I can't very well hide in the throne room any more since it's been repaired." It was certainly more pleasant now that it didn't bear so many battle scars, but the palace staff kept finding her there. "My relays are in imminent danger of overloading if I have to talk to one more politician."

"Don't I technically fall into that category, too?" He was smirking, then. Mischievous, unrepentant. Cinder felt her taunt muscles relax a little at the sight. It was one of very few friendly faces she'd seen since the Rampion departed for Earth, with Winter and Jacin leaving soon after it. Sure, she still had Iko, and Kinney was becoming closer, but lately those two had been more involved in their own verbal sparring matches than anything else, which left Cinder to herself mostly. And to many, many calls to the Eastern Commonwealth.

"No." Kai was a category all his own. At least by her estimation.

He sighed fondly, eyes warming still more, as if he'd read her mind. His voice went sympathetic. "Hiding doesn't help for long, you know. At least not in my experience."

"You've only been emperor for four months, Kai."

"Still longer than _one_ month."

Cinder let out a decidedly unqueenly snort. "At this point, the hiding is the only thing keeping me sane. I can't imagine how bad it's going to be three months from now."

"Believe it or not, it gets easier." The view on the port's screen wavered as Kai shifted in his chair to find a more comfortable position, flashing a brief view of the New Beijing palace's balcony and the golden afternoon sun flashing over the rooftops of the city below. There was a twinge of longing in Cinder's chest, accompanied by a flash of memories. The mingled scent of hot, yeasty sweet rolls and thick, metallic mechanic grease that she had smelled every market day. The humid air on every walk to and from the apartment. The familiar chill of the workshop, _her_ workshop, where she'd spent every free hour she ever had.

Cinder swallowed hard, tamping back the wave of…was it homesickness? Was it possible to be homesick for a place that had never really been her home? To long for the simple four walls of a rented workshop over the gleaming spires and polished stone that were her birthright? It shouldn't have been. It seemed so…ungrateful. But she missed it all the same, her heart yearning for the familiar sights and smells and places over the alien luxury of the world she now inhabited.

"I hope so." Cinder murmured over the lump in her throat. Kai frowned, eyes narrowing in concern.

"Are you alright? You've been pretty active for someone who nearly died recently."

"It's not that." Though, to be fair, it certainly didn't help. She was nearly back to one hundred percent now, but healing was a slow process. "There's just…a lot to adjust to."

"I know. But you're more than capable." There was no warning orange light at the fringes of her vision, so that meant it had to be true, right? Or at least Kai believed it to be. He was sweet that way. Or possibly just a bit biased. Either way, Cinder smiled.

"Yeah, well…maybe you should try convincing the Lunar councils of that. I'm not having much luck yet."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I've got enough trouble trying to make my own advisors listen to what they seem to think is a child emperor." Kai muttered, scraping a hand through his hair with a rueful smile. His eyes flicked to the time display at the corner of the screen and the smile waned slightly. He sighed. "And speaking of my advisors, I've got a meeting in about three minutes."

"Well—"

There was an abrupt slam from the room next door to Cinder's hideaway, eliciting a jump from Cinder and quizzical look from Kai at the jostled view. Cinder frowned and adjusted her auditory settings to better pick up the commotion on the other side of the wall. Footsteps, one set heavy and unwieldy and the other light and brisk—boots and heels, probably—and voices, one outraged and feminine and loud, while the other remained…unperturbed. Perhaps a bit amused. Cinder sighed and lifted her flesh and blood hand to massage her temple. Iko and Kinney had found her.

"Let me guess…Madame Counselor and your personal guard are at it again?"

"How'd you guess?" Cinder grumbled in response as she shoved her chair back and rose from the table. If they'd come looking for her, it was likely time for her next council meeting or something equally unpleasant. That was the difficulty in having two councils: double the number of meetings, since the Artemisian council turned up their noses at mingling with the citizens of the outer sectors and the citizen council wanted nothing to do with "the Artemisian snobs."

"I'm learning to recognize that particular frown." Kai's eyes darted up to the display's clock again. "I should go…good luck with the lovebirds."

"If they ever hear you call them that, I don't think your diplomatic immunity is going to protect you." Cinder snorted to cover the familiar twinge in her chest that came with their goodbyes. Kai looked equally reluctant, but he was moving out of his quarters and down the palace corridors to his meeting all the same.

"Guess you'll have to protect me if they ever do." He chuckled, finally coming to a stop in a hall she recognized as being in the conference wing. "Call me tonight?"

"Of course."

"See you then." He grinned again, lifting a hand to his lips and blowing an imaginary kiss. Cinder snickered.

"Thorne teach you that, too?"

"Nah. That one's all me."

Cinder smiled as he signed off, the room plunging into a silence magnified by the sudden absence of Kai's voice. Cinder frowned as a thought struck her. It was silent. _Entirely_ silent. At some point, the snapping and snarling in the other room had stopped. That could be either a very good or a very, very _bad_ sign.

She strode across the room to the connecting door and pulled it open to reveal Iko and Kinney in the center of the room, staring into each other's eyes. Kinney held one of Iko's braids in one hand and murmured something Cinder couldn't hear before gently flicking it back over her shoulder. Iko pulled away, babbling and flustered, but…pleased? Cinder stared. Well, that was a new development. Though good or bad, she still couldn't tell.

"What are you two _doing_ in here?"

Iko jumped and Kinney stiffened as if he'd been slapped, while they each took a large step away from the other. "Nothing!"

Cinder's brows drew together. They were speaking in unison now? Brilliant.

"I…should go check on the perimeter patrols." Kinney muttered, bolting for the exit in a quick jog-walk that was just shy of being a sprint. Iko looked equally uneasy as she edged toward the door and sputtered something about looking in on the seamstresses. The seamstresses who, oddly enough, had left the palace yesterday. Cinder's eyes narrowed as she trailed after them. _Nothing_ , indeed. Perhaps Kai hadn't been so far off, after all…


	4. Dedicated

**Hello, all! My apologies for the gap between updates! Thank you for your concern. There have been some issues in my non-Internet personal life, plus a much larger influx of fic requests than I anticipated. I hope to have a more consistent updating schedule from here on out. Thank you so much, both for reading and for your very kind reviews!**

She'd fallen asleep in her paperwork again. Iko tsked under her breath as she stepped through the connecting door that separated her office from Cinder's, narrowing her eyes at the form slumped over the desk. She'd been doing that a lot lately...it was concerning. It was one thing to be dedicated to the job, but quite another for a teenager to be snoring at her desk at four in the morning.

Iko kicked off her stilettos at the doorway and scooped them up by the straps to pad silently over to Cinder's side. Cinder herself had listed forward, one arm folded on the desk to pillow her head and the other—the metal one—flung out to hang over the edge of the desk, still stubbornly clutching one of her papers even in sleep. Her snores stirred the pile of paper mounded around her, rustling it softly with every breath. Part of said pile appeared to be composed of the plans and proposals for the upcoming First Annual Lunar Gala, while the rest was a mix of reports regarding the reconstruction and a few old files detailing some of Levana's more private projects and plans. Iko pursed her lips. She hadn't yet had occasion to read those files herself, but judging by how Cinder reacted to them, the contents couldn't have been pleasant. Probably more plans for the domination of the galaxy or the destruction of Earth or possibly the eradication of puppies.

She hated it when Cinder buried herself in those particular files...It was a necessary evil, given that a good queen had to be informed on the affairs of her predecessors, but it always left Cinder like this. Depressed, disgusted, and so utterly drained that crashing at her desk seemed easier than trudging to the luxuriant bedroom only a few halls and a stairway away.

"Ah, Cinder…"Iko sighed and took a step back, scraping a hand through her cascade of delicate braids as she deliberated. If she left her here, she'd have the headache to end all headaches when she woke up. Iko could wake her up and try to herd her up to bed…but that would likely just result in Cinder trying to go back to work. That left physically moving her up to bed without waking her…which Iko couldn't do with a standard escort droid body. She moved to the broad double doors and pulled one open as quietly as she could to enlist the help of the guard on duty and promptly froze.

 _Kinney_.

Iko stared, her fingers tightening unconsciously on the doorframe. They hadn't spoken since the incident in the conference room a few days earlier. And given how infuriatingly confusing _that_ conversation had been, Iko had been okay with that.

"Madame Counselor? Is there a problem?" The hallway was dark, only the faint light of a few dimmed wall sconces illuminating Kinney's face as he straightened from where he had been leaning against the other door. His voice was rough with exhaustion, but his body had gone rigidly alert the moment the door opened.

"Wasn't your shift over at eleven?" Not that she kept track of his shifts because…she didn't. Really. She _didn't_.

"Double shift tonight. Carson's wife is having a baby." Kinney relaxed slightly, no longer holding himself at attention, but somehow he looked no less uncomfortable. He shifted his weight uneasily from foot to foot—not overtly enough to be conspicuous or often enough to overtly highlight his discomfort, but just enough for Iko to notice—and his gaze stayed firmly averted from Iko's. She frowned. So he was going to simply pretend their conversation didn't happen, then. Fine. _Fine_.

"Aww. Pass on my congratulations. And tell him to bring baby pictures on his next shift. And speaking of shifts…" Iko stepped back, sweeping the door wide enough to reveal desk and its drowsy occupant. "Hers was over about three hours ago. I need help getting her to bed."

Kinney's brows rose and he stared for a moment before releasing a quiet huff of something between amusement and disapproval. His face softened almost fondly as he stepped inside, shaking his head. "Again?"

"Third time this month."

"You really ought to talk to her about that." Kinney murmured, circling the desk as he sized up the situation to determine how best to move a sleeping cyborg. "Doesn't scolding royalty fall under the 'Counselor' job description?"

"Believe me, I've tried…she's just ridiculously stubborn." Iko replied, bending to scoop up the papers that had slid off the desk and stack them in a meticulously neat pile to one side of the desktop. "It's a lost cause."

"Hmph." Kinney grunted back, lapsing into a concentrated silence as he eased an arm behind Cinder's back and gingerly gathered her up in his arms. His frown deepened as he straightened, taking in the dark smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes. "She's going to kill herself if she keeps working this hard."

"She's…dedicated." Iko said softly, reaching over to brush a few loose strands of dark hair back behind Cinder's ear. A familiar surge of worry welled up in her throat. She couldn't be prouder of her friend if she tried. She'd watched her grow up, she'd seen her do everything from proudly opening her mechanic's booth to accepting the crown that was owed to her…but never once had Iko seen her do anything half-way. Even when perhaps she should have.

" _Hmph_." Kinney said again, his tone just as unimpressed as before and twice as disapproving. Iko smiled faintly as she trailed him out into the hall, pausing to switch off the office's lights before trotting to catch up. At least she wasn't the only one who was concerned. If she wasn't mistaken, Cinder was around the same age as Kinney's younger sister—she'd caught a brief glimpse of her in the kitchens several weeks earlier and they looked approximately the same age—and Iko wouldn't be surprised if some of that concern stemmed from that association. All the same, it was reassuring to know that she wasn't the only person on Luna who had Cinder's back. Reassuring…and a little endearing, too. "Why exactly were you still up, too?"

Iko's smile faltered a little, her heart dropping in her chest. It wasn't a question she could answer without stirring up their same old tired issues. "I…don't need to sleep. I usually just do quiet work—paperwork and things—overnight."

"Oh." Kinney's face slid back into the mask of thinly veiled discomfort Iko knew all too well, and they lapsed into an uneasy silence as they made the trek through the darkened halls between the office wing and the royal suite. Iko barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That was one thing she would never understand about that man. He was brave—he was the first of the guards to switch his allegiance to Cinder, he was caring—she knew for a fact that he spent most of his off-hours looking after his family, and yet, when it came to accepting Iko as an android—a little detail that hadn't seemed to bother anyone _else_ in the palace—he was as unyielding as stone. Whatever went on in his pretty head, she would never understand it.

Iko swiped her wrist across the scanner at the door to unlock Cinder's suite and shoved the door open a little harder than necessary, stepping back to hold it for Kinney and his cargo. She didn't bother turning on the lights, instead marching straight to the bed to turn down the covers and fluff up the pillows. Kinney eased Cinder gently onto the mattress and carefully tugged her shoes free to set them at the end of the bed. Both grabbed one side of the duvet and pulled it up, tucking it snug around her shoulders before they stepped back. Iko glanced over at Kinney as they edged quietly from the room. They'd worked perfectly in tandem, like a well-oiled team, and pulled it off without so much as stir from Cinder. How could they work so well, but clash so badly all at the same time?

"Well…good night." She murmured as the door clicked shut behind them, and Kinney settled his back against it to take his post for the night. The evening's paperwork was done, but she still had plenty to do. First off, she'd head back to Cinder's office to tidy up the explosion of papers, then perhaps she would review the prospective designs for Cinder's Gala dress, then—

"Iko?"

Iko froze mid-step, then turned slowly on her heel to stare at Kinney. His face revealed nothing, his features remaining just as blank and professional as always. But his eyes…his eyes were troubled. Uncertain. As well they should be…she'd never heard him refer to her by her name before.

"Yes?"

"You…you should take a break, too." He paused and cleared his throat, as if fighting to dislodge whatever sentiment was stuck in the back of his throat. "She isn't the only one who's too dedicated."

Iko smiled faintly, but made a point of turning away quickly, before Kinney could see. He was an idiot, to be sure. But perhaps…perhaps he was finally trying.


End file.
